


Confidantial Confessions, A Tale of Third Choices

by TaurusVersant



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Friendship, Gen, doing it right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-27 22:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaurusVersant/pseuds/TaurusVersant
Summary: I love you.I don't feel much towards you.>You are an incredibly important person to me.





	1. You Have Us

“I guess... I'm alone again, huh?”

Two figures stood on a Shujin rooftop, where just moments ago there had been three. The exit of the third was of a far more peaceful form than her last departure from this place, yet even still a wound had been left behind.

An injury deep in the heart of Ann Takamaki.

But there was one thing wrong in her words.

You have me.  
You have the others.  
**> You have us.**

The speaker was Akira Kurusu, leader and friend. The heat of late summer assaulted him from all directions, thick and curly black hair draining the light that fell upon it, school uniform just almost but not quite breezy enough to be comfortable. In this instant though, his usual complaints of the heat were banished from thought.

There were far more important things to address.

When Ann raised her head, looked at Akira with clear blue eyes, he felt a moment's relief. That what he had said was right and true. Ann had lost someone important beyond measure, the gap between her and Shiho far too wide now, far too difficult to breach. And though they'd always call out to one another, answer with joy to hear the voice, and see the face, of their closest friend, the physical distance would still weigh heavy upon their hearts.

It wasn't fair.

But Ann Takamaki was not alone.

Although knowing that didn't stop the pain.

“Hey.”

She could already feel the tears welling up again, Akira's concerned expression undermining all her attempts to hold herself back. She could see he cared and in knowing he was here for her Ann's emotions overflowed. For a moment she let herself go.

She wailed.

Anything else and she might have been able to control herself. To bottle this up, cry herself to sleep that night, wallow in loneliness before remembering that she wasn't who she used to be. But Akira had said exactly the right thing, the honest thing, and in doing so broken through every defence she'd had.

There were so many people here for her now.

There he was, just standing lamely before her, hands in his pockets, unsure look on his face. Like he hadn't done this perfectly, like he didn't know how to comfort her. He looked so damn awkward. Still not fully in control of her emotions, Ann burst into laughter at the sight of him.

If he was concerned by that, he didn't say anything at all.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, she could speak again. Her face was wet, but somehow she didn't seem to mind. Simply shook her head, ash-blonde pigtails whipping around as she did, and fixed Akira Kurusu with a steady stare. He looked surprised.

She smiled.

“Thanks.”

His expressions were subtle when he wanted them to be. An even gaze, tight lips, relaxed posture. All too often that was what she, and everyone else, saw of him. But then again, spending so much time with him, you began to see other things too. Moments where he was curious, moments where he was cautious, moments where he was confused. The way he studied his surroundings and how – if it weren't for his glasses – you'd see his eyes flicking from side to side, always checking what was around him at all times. Those were the subtleties of Akira Kurusu.

The smile he gave her in response to her thanks was the largest, and most genuine, she'd ever seen from him before. “I meant it.”

“I know,” she nodded, feelings still tender, still raw. “We're all part of the same team. We all support each other. And we're all being counted on by the people in need. I'm not going to forget that. No matter what.”

Before this she'd been almost completely alone. She'd had Shiho, who she loved with all her heart, but had still let down. Let that bastard Kamoshida trample over them and use them for his own gain. And because of him, who she'd never, ever, forgive, Shiho was going away now. To a place out in the country, far enough that the two would only see one another in the few free days they could create.

Shiho, who'd been with her for so long, was so far away. The Ann of before, the thought of not having Shiho by her side would destroy her. For she'd have been left empty and alone.

But that was not how it was now. She had Akira. And Ryuji. And Morgana, Yusuke, and Makoto. She had the Phantom Thieves. She was one of the Phantom Thieves.

And she'd never, ever, again be alone. They'd never let her.

Her heart had a home. All she had to do was wait for Shiho to return to it too.

They'd be with her until then. Beyond that too.

She was sure of it.

She sniffed again.

“Hey,” Akira repeated the querying tone, careful gaze watching over her, wishing only to know she was going to be alright, “are you okay?”

“No,” she replied simply, honestly, shaking her head. “But I will be. Because I have you. All of you. Right?”

He nodded. “Right.”

In the moments before he'd first spoken, when had she last felt so alone? Nights wishing her parents would come back from overseas? The time before she first met Shiho? So long. So long that Shiho Suzui had kept her from despair. The feeling of being held onto by her, of wishing she wouldn't let go, still coursed through Ann's mind. Once, so long ago...

“Hey,” this time it was her addressing Akira. He tilted his head, in that way that he did, to show he was listening. Another gesture she'd learned to recognise after knowing him this long. “Uh...” but it was still awkward. The difference between places, between cultures, it had been a challenge for her to take on. What she remembered was... “Can I, uh, it's just-” She remembered how often her mother and father would reach down to her, wrap their arms around her, lift her up as a child. How that contact had dried up when she'd moved here alone. How it wasn't something people did in Japan.

Akira nodded, as if he knew exactly what her thoughts were. “It's fine.”

She didn't know for sure whether Akira had any idea at all what she meant, but it was too late for that. Ann stepped in and wrapped her arms around him, rested her head against his chest, and closed her eyes tight. Her face was burning, this was beyond embarrassing, but still... she needed to just hold onto someone.

To hold someone who cared.

It really did genuinely surprise her when Akira returned the gesture.

“Hey,” she didn't want him to have the wrong idea. He should be smart enough not to, but still, there were things that were far stronger signals in one culture than another. This entire situation was...

“I know,” his voice was so quiet, head right above her own. “I get it. Just... wanting to hold on.”

He'd been cast out from his home. How long had it been since he'd had the chance just to feel the warmth and reassurance that another cared for him? “Okay.” So they stayed like that until her eyes were finally dry.

“I'm going to do my best.” Akira had been looking out from the rooftop, considering the fate that brought them to this place, though turned back to face Ann when she spoke again. “Not just for our team, but for everyone who needs our help.” If the twinkle in Akira's eye, the acknowledgement of this Confidant's strength, existed at all it was hidden by his glasses. Each nodded to the other, accepting of their resolve.

Nothing was over for her. This was only just beginning.

“Akira... thanks.”

“Any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you've just gotta do it yourself. This entire fic was inspired by this rank 9 event, and the complete inability to answer Ann with what I really wanted to say. So now I'm doing it.
> 
> In complete honesty, I wouldn't even be surprised if it were a translation issue, that there was a good -tachi in Akira's non-romantic choice in the original Japanese. Too late for that now, I've already committed. Confidantial Confessions is a retelling of every rank 9 confession where a far more emotionally intimate dialogue takes place. Please look forward to it as it continues.


	2. It Was The Right Thing To Do

“Why did you keep coming to me?”

Her stare was laser-focused, bronze eyes burning him down. This was the look Tae held as she studied him after tests, ensuring the results were as she expected. Calm, but with the slightest hint of eagerness. Like she needed to know more.

A fish jumped out of the waters of Inokashira Park, sending ripples out from where it splashed back down, the sound echoing to the ears of the pair standing by its edge. Neither shifted their eyes from the other.

“Why don't you tell me the truth about why you kept coming to me?”

The truth? It was the most obvious thing it could be. Akira spoke without missing a beat.

I wanted to see you.  
It was for my exams.  
**> It was the right thing to do.**

He'd surprised her, now and again. The look of shock Tae had given him when he'd first accepted her deal to be her test subject, when he'd taken that medicine without flinching, he remembered it well. If she'd had any thoughts beyond that about the willingness of a teenager to put themselves at her mercy, she hadn't made any mention of it.

Maybe now that was what this was.

Tae Takemi blinked.

“What?”

“I wanted you to succeed.” Akira's shrug, relaxed and even-tempered, had thrown her off completely. The looks she'd been sure this boy was giving her, the small smiles, the teasing jokes; teenagers were volatile, filled with hormones. She'd been sure she'd have to let his little crush down easily.

For a brief moment Tae began to wonder whether she might be the one in over her head in this conversation.

The fact she still hadn't responded prompted Akira to continue – a rare enough thing. He usually kept all his thoughts to himself. “I mean the deal was good, you helped a lot, but in the end I didn't really come back thinking about that. I just wanted to make sure you were able to make your medicine, to save Miwa-chan. It was the right thing to do.”

The right thing? The right thing!? A more comical universe would allow a jet of steam to shoot from Tae's ears, her brain one and also every car in a massively destructive pileup. What was this kid even thinking?

“You took experimental untested medicine on the regular because 'it was the right thing'?” No selfishness? No attempting to get on her good side? This wasn't an extension of some sort of ploy to be such a remarkable person that he would successfully woo her, was it? No, no, he wasn't like that. He was quiet, but he was also upfront when he wanted to be.

He said it was the right thing because that was entirely the truth as he saw it. Which meant... which meant...

Akira shrugged again. “I trusted you.”

“Why?” She hadn't meant to reply to that nearly as quickly as she did, practically hurling the word at him. Akira didn't look phased at all. What was with his damn unshakeable countenance? Once again, it started to occur to her that she might be in over her head dealing with this one.

This time, Akira's expression shifted. Some curiosity had found its way across his face, adjusting his expression just so. It was a small change, but given how often he seemed to wear neutrality like a mask, it stood out. She stared, still unsure where she was in this conversation anymore.

“Is it really so strange? “ He tilted his head, waiting for the answer. “Do you think it wasn't right?”

“It's not-” she was so far out of her depth, weighing raw moral good against risk without benefit. Akira had put his faith in her, she could have given him anything and he'd have taken it, and for what gain? Besides their deal, which he seemed to have completely disregarded in this context already. It honestly just sounded like he was doing it because he wanted to. “Are you really so intent on pretending there were no risks?”

“They were acceptable.”

“You're serious.”

“Is this really why you're asking me this?”

Oh god, now he'd caught her. She knew that twitch of his lips, that slight smirk. He'd been quiet and docile at first, besides having the unflinching drive to go through with the medical tests. But as soon as he'd gotten even the slightest amount of familiarity Akira had started to tease. He'd tested the waters with little jokes, teasing remarks, and as she failed to rebuke him for them continued to escalate. It was fun, in a way, to have someone with so much life around her. She didn't get that sort of exposure anywhere else.

“Doctor Takemi,” Akira said her name with exactly the amount of thrill at the line he'd come up with to make her already groan inside her own head, “why did _you_ think I kept coming back?”

It wasn't... her, was it?

No, no no no no, of course it wasn't. She'd started this conversation with the intent to put a stop to anything this poor teen might be feeling. She was an adult, damn it. So what if he was the first person in ages to ever show her genuine kindness and empathy, who'd motivated her to try harder, helped her find a better place in the world, stood with her the entire way to accomplishing the goal she'd been dreaming of for so long.

That didn't... mean... anything...

oh god.

No no no no no, she was a professional, she never buckled under any sort of stress. No her cheeks were goddamn _not_ blushing she completely refused this. This damn teen with his scruffy mess of hair and clever mouth and that small teasing smile that always bugged her but never quite enough to tell him to stop, only just enough to occupy her when she caught it. Or was caught by it.

No god damn it she was literally wearing a web pattern right now she was _not_ the one being captured here. This thief was not taking _this_ heart!

She'd been caught up in her head for too long. Akira laughed and it completely disarmed her. This wasn't how the conversation was meant to go, not one bit.

She really had underestimated Akira Kurusu.

“The spider theme,” he tilted a hand, gesturing to her dress – which she quite liked thank you – “it's a little intimidating. The way you were looking at me before I thought you were going to eat me now that you were done with the medicine.”

What sort of joke even was that? She stared, more confused than anything else. A response took shape.

“Aren't you arrogant, thinking you'd taste good enough.”

“They eat guinea pigs in South America y'know.”

What were you even meant to say to that?

“You know the strangest mix of things, Kurusu-kun.”

He laughed again and it was so relaxed that she couldn't help but feel relaxed by it as well, stresses fading away. Like she'd just been pulled back from a dangerous ledge. Tae shook her head. “Honestly, you have been nothing but exhausting from the day you walked into my clinic. Do you know how much work I have now because of you? Because of everyone in Yongen-Jaya coming my way?”

“You can handle it,” Akira brushed off Tae's concerns like they weren't anything at all. Which, truthfully enough, they weren't. She'd just wanted to rattle him.

That plan hadn't worked out from the moment she'd first opened her mouth. This kid...

What a character.

Akira smiled. “Happy to have helped.”

“Yeah.” She couldn't deny that he had. “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tae Takemi, let me be completely honest with you: as soon as I'd purchased an SP regen 3 band for all my party members I was done with what you were offering. Medicine? Who needs that. But I came back all the same, y'know? And Akira would've even needing more medicine.
> 
> Because it was the right thing to do.
> 
> This was a ouija-style chapter, which basically meant I started writing with only a general concept and had no idea where I was going. So that Tae ended up struggling with her own feelings surprised even me. Still, I'm writing these as canon compliant - so the fact Akira COULD form a romantic relationship with each of these characters is true, it's just simply not what happens. In the game Tae herself seemed to be leading Akira to a confession, yet at the same time was surprised when he did. I guess I interpreted that in this fic as her intending to let him down before realising just how fond she'd grown of him. Still, thanks to some responsibility on both sides, these two went on with the correct decision.
> 
> Don't date any of the adults in P5, seriously now, that's morally wrong y'all.


	3. Are You Ready To?

“...Do you remember how Eiko said I would flunk a test about love? Well, um... I don't know how to study that subject.”

The atmosphere of Crossroads, the small bar nestled within Shinjuku's clutches, lost little during the day. The red and pink lights within were only slightly offset by the sunlight pushing its way through the door's window, and even it seemed to take on a more deviant tinge as it played out across the bottles stacked upon the bar counter itself.

Makoto Niijima, at Akira Kurusu's right hand, looked at him with a gaze the flavour of this place made almost lurid. Akira had always considered the red of her eyes striking. Right now, in the light of Crossroads, it was even more. Intoxicating almost.

...he kind of understood how people hooked up so easily when out drinking, if just the atmosphere were strong enough to paint others like this.

“...What should I do, Akira-kun?”

She closed her eyes, looking down. Akira breathed out, and wondered how best to answer this. What could be the right way to address what he was sure this was. It kind of felt like in some obscure way Tae was getting her revenge on him now. Shoe on the other foot and all.

“I can't learn about romance by myself...”

Oh Makoto...

You'll find someone someday.  
I'll be your study partner.  
**> Are you ready to?**

It did the job. When she looked back at him, her expression was one confused. Like the question wasn't something she understood. She frowned. Looked back down. Then up again. She was lost.

“I... how can I know that?”

“Knowing is part of being ready.”

It wasn't like he was some kind of expert – though certainly the few times he'd done a shift at Crossroads had resulted in a lot of verbal experience. People were quick to offer him advice. Not all of it was smart to take, but some of it certainly had been. Enough to have come up with this as his answer.

Though he still didn't really like it.

Makoto looked displeased. “I don't understand. If I want to learn about romance, am I not ready to?”

“I think they're two different things.”

“Do you?”

Akira nodded. “For me... it's not like I don't want the experience. Like I don't want someone. I just... not before this is all over. That's all.”

He'd hoped to avoid admitting that. The way he parsed himself right now. But she deserved that. And far more. But this was as much as he could give.

Makoto's expression was completely different now.

“When it's over...” she considered the words, looking caught up in thought. “I suppose... we are all going through a lot right now.” The look Makoto gave him showed her more analytical side. She was coming to conclusions. “You especially, with the number of people and jobs you seem to be juggling. It must be exhausting.”

Admitting weaknesses was always asking for trouble. It wasn't like he couldn't handle it. He was keeping up. It was just...

“I just don't think I can split myself that way right now. To give what I should to someone when I'm already doing so much else.”

He hadn't gone into this conversation prepared to explain his own current state. He hadn't gone into this conversation expecting any of this. Makoto had caught him unawares, a habit she'd somehow picked up despite his earliest victories. If this were a result of his influence upon her he wasn't sure. He wouldn't bet against that though.

“I think I see.” Makoto nodded, lips set. “The difference between wanting something, and knowing you are ready for it. I suppose that knowledge will come with time. People say that such things are destiny after all. It is probably fine to wait.”

Okay, good. That was for the best. Akira nodded in return. “I'm sorry.”

Her surprised expression was a fun one, the way her eyes narrowed after as she attempted to reach the right conclusion as quickly as possible something Akira could enjoy. She stared him down. “Whatever are you apologising for?”

“Makoto,” oh she squirmed in her seat when he smiled at her, oh it was difficult to look him in the eyes as he grinned. He'd taken to using her name far too quickly, a trait she'd have pointed out if it weren't for the fact he was the same with every other Phantom Thief as well. So familiar. “You are the most unsubtle person I know, and we're both friends with Ryuji.”

Wow!

“Excuse me?” Her shocked exclamation only resulted in Akira laughing at her. How rude!

“Do you not remember how bad you were at stalking me earlier in the year?”

“I remember you kept sneaking up behind me and scaring the life out of me!”

“Well I couldn't just let you follow me unpunished.”

“I started getting paranoid you were about to appear behind me whenever you left my field of view!”

Akira just laughed again. Unbelievable! Makoto frowned at him. He smiled back. It was enough to lessen her frustration. He was always like that. Always bringing her happiness she hadn't had before. To this limit, she guessed.

But it wasn't! Like she blamed him! She understood, honestly! Akira was doing so much, giving so much to everyone. A romantic involvement, she imagined such things occupied you, filled you up with thoughts and feelings. Having that, wouldn't it be counter-productive for him? While he was busy giving everything he had to so many people? It definitely made sense.

He'd asked her if she was ready as a way of admitting he wasn't. And she understood. Really, she did. Really...

“I suppose I should at least try to focus on my schoolwork right now.” It wasn't like that was going away. She had a plan to commit to. She had to work for it. Romance, really, was there even the time for that? “Let's work hard to achieve our goals together, Akira-kun.”

Akira's smile was one pleased, as a sense within him measured the strength of their bond as nearing unbreakable. He nodded. “We'll get through this.”

And they would! Makoto was sure of that now. All it would take is some hard work and effort. When all was said and done, when they were past all of this, then she could consider what, and who, she wanted. That was good enough.

She'd be ready when she knew she was.

The proprietress, Akira had called her Lala-chan, saw the two out, thrilled with their heartfelt discussion. Yet at the door, Akira having been the first to exit, a call rang out for her alone.

“Oh, Makoto-chan~” Lala waved at her when Makoto turned to look, provided a smile and a wink. “Good luck.”

The problem with daylight in Shinjuku is that it couldn't hide your blush, not the way the red and pink lights of the evening did. Akira, to his credit, didn't mention it.

How embarrassing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I committed to rewriting all nine rank nine friendship choices, I knew that some of them would pose me great difficulty. Settling on what I wanted from the discussion with Makoto took some real effort, this was not an easy thing to do.
> 
> In truth, Makoto's one of the three dateable characters I can find no fault with. The adults are clearly out, so that's down to five. Ann can be argued, but I find the rank 9 romance for her super predatory so I can't enjoy it. And I've already made my position clear on Futaba is little sister. So that just leaves Makoto, Hifumi, and Haru, our of-age, emotionally mature, contemporaries. Honestly, those three are without question going to be the hardest for me to write.
> 
> I wrote Makoto as clearly being aware of what her question meant, because really, she's not stupid. It is impossible to ask that and not understand, on some level, that you could receive a positive answer. And again, as I'm writing third options to existing canon, the other two possibilities based on what Akira says could remain. If he'd answered in the affirmative these two would be dating. Cause that's what happens in the game.
> 
> Anyway, it's my hope that this exploration of Akira's mental state, and discussion between the two in which Akira is able to confide, serves as a good third path - something that isn't so much a brush-off as an admittance of capability. This poor kid just has way too much on his plate right now.
> 
> Someone save him.


	4. Won't You?

“Besides, won't you be lonely? Hm?”

The path of Temperance had been a trip.

Not that Akira was so keenly aware of the mechanical underpinnings of his bonds; the power of the Wildcard forging connections from which he could draw strength. Igor and the Wardens, Caroline and Justine, had explained Confidants, the nature of those bonds empowering his own Persona, and the subclassing via Arcana of Persona, but it was still a little too meta to get.

Maybe with time it would become more instinctual? Maybe.

Sadayo Kawakami, Kawakami-sensei as Akira always said – with politeness in school hours and an insufferably teasing smile during maid – stood before him and stared him down. Retirement from maidhood, well, that was for the best. Still, her words did reach him.

Would he be lonely? Akira stared back.

Not really.  
I want to keep seeing you.  
**> Won't you?**

Inside the Metaverse, this would be what was known as a 'critical hit'.

There was a whole host of reactions from that. First the flinch, indicating the direct hit Akira had landed. Then she made sure to look away, compose herself, attempt to pretend that hadn't landed too close to home. Looked back at him with a smile. Had that smile completely crumple under his own. Looked down again, trying to think of anything that could salvage this. Realised how long it had been since Akira had spoken. And gave up completely.

When she raised her head again, she just gave it a shake and a small, rueful smile.

“Rude.”

She very expressly didn't say he was wrong.

“Yeah,” Akira threw her a bone, rescued her from the absolute mortification of having her own student call out how much she'd grown to depend on him, “I would be.”

She blinked.

“Jeeze, Akira-kun,” her frustration was marred by amusement – the precise mix Akira most enjoyed eliciting from others, “why couldn't you just say that to start with, instead of teasing me like that?”

“It's not good to keep secrets,” he smiled simply, like he wasn't the type to do exactly the same, “You'll be happier admitting what you really feel.”

She didn't even know what that was.

What exactly did Sadayo Kawakami feel, having come here to tell Akira Kurusu she'd no longer be seeing him in this capacity again? It was a hard mix of things to examine. She thought and he, seeing this, kept quiet. Gave her this chance to think.

First of all there was a genuine sense of relief. Moonlighting as a maid had been far too much, drained so much life from her and made demands she really had not enjoyed. On the other side it seemed ridiculous that she'd allowed herself to be browbeaten by the Takases into this life, but her mental and emotional state had been trash ever since poor Taiki had passed away. It was understandable she'd be so easy to take advantage of in such a state.

Secondly there was the slight disappointment all the same. Coming here, specifically to Akira's side, had been the saving grace of her year. He'd offered her a place she could be safe from the demands of the outside, listened to her deepest secrets, supported her, all the kinds of things she'd always wanted to have someone do but never had that someone to. Leaving behind the maid lifestyle meant these visits would stop too. She'd only see Akira at school, just another student among many. This time here, this equality, retiring from being a maid meant retiring from it too.

That was the one real wrinkle.

She really hadn't had anyone else like this in her life before. Someone who just genuinely cared without expecting anything in response. Was this real friendship? Her colleagues, some she was comfortable speaking with, but were they just acquaintances in the end?

God above, she'd accused Akira of having no friends when first he'd called her out, maybe it was she living the lonely life instead? No wait, forget it, there was no maybe here at all. She'd been miserable and alone.

He really had saved her.

When her smile reached her face, Akira straightened up in his seat, his slouch mostly disappearing. He always tried to keep a good posture ever since she'd pointed out how terribly lax he was with it – one thing amongst many, this boy just did not know how to look after himself – but was never so quick as to avoid her sight. Honestly, she'd tell him now, but it'd just feel like she was mothering him.

Then again, given his situation, isolation, the fact his parents had sent him out to Tokyo alone, perhaps mothering was something he genuinely needed. Was that really right though, treating him that way? She'd come to rely on their being equals in this environment, on Akira not demanding of her yet neither being demanded of. Just talking without any other rules or expectations upon them. She frowned.

“If you're not careful your face will get stuck like that.”

Oh! Her glare just made Akira smile, happy to have bugged her out of her spiralling thoughts. Here she was worrying about mothering and her own student was continuing to give her such advice, honestly! But oh, maybe that's how it is. Maybe it's not mothering. Maybe it's just two people genuinely caring for one another.

That was... friendship, right? She didn't actually know, didn't understand the lines. How alone had she been to reach such a state? It was mortifying to think that this was the kind of miserable person she'd become. She needed to get out more. To meet more people. To make friends. Going on like this, she'd just go crazy.

Even still...

The look Akira received from his teacher caused him to focus. He always had that stare, that showed he was listening intently, which Kawakami had taken as a sign she was teaching right. It wasn't every day at school, which she'd lecture him for if he wouldn't lecture her back – friendship, right? – but it was often enough she used it as a guide for how to be a better teacher. Oh no... he'd helped her become a better teacher by saving her, but was he even guiding her in such subtle manners? How had she come to this, following the footsteps of a highschooler as he led her on the path to a better future? What kind of person was he to be able to do such?

Incredible, right? Absolutely incredible. She knew that already.

“Akira-kun,” he'd turned the question on her. She'd turn it right back on him. “What do you want?”

She'd use that to guide her. She was still too new to this, to having someone like him caring for her without restriction. He knew so many things, seemed so much more worldly than she. He'd know what was right. She thought.

“Ideally,” Akira seemed to consider the question, “nothing to change.”

Huh? “Wait, wait wait wait, what do you mean by that?” She'd just told him she was retiring from being a maid! He couldn't ask her to keep going! It didn't matter how much she cared about him and wanted to see him like this, she wasn't going back! No no no!

Akira shook his head. “There's just been... a lot of change recently. It'd be nice for things to just calm down a little. All the people around me not to disappear. I've had a little too much of that.”

Oh.

Oh that made a lot more sense. She'd been thinking selfishly, that it was only her relying on Akira. All her thoughts on equality, on supporting each other, yet in the end it had entirely been that Akira had given her somewhere safe. The opposite hadn't occurred at all. That she'd become someone stable, someone reliable, for a child – a child! – who'd been cast out, scared and alone.

Oh there was still so much further for her to go to be a teacher worthy of the name. It was insulting that she'd thought just overcoming what was holding her back meant she was fine now. No, it wasn't. She had so much more to do.

“Akira-kun...”

“Come for a coffee once in a while?”

“I will.”

If he needed someone to listen, someone to hear him out, someone he could just let his guard down around, she'd be that person too. Not just for the sake of being a good teacher, or for the sake of having somewhere for her as well, no, more than that...

For the sake of Akira Kurusu, she, Sadayo Kawakami, would be there.

And that she meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For how simple of a response Akira gave, this was one of the ones that took me the longest to come up with. Before I started a single chapter of this I'd already made nine pages, one per character, listed the dialogue options, then come up with a third. Some of them I knew going into this fic. Some of them I came up with pretty quick.
> 
> Some of them I really had to sit and hmm-haw about until I came up with something that felt good.
> 
> During Spin the Wheel, I went with the names that Akira used most often for characters. So a lot of people went by first-names, while others like Iwai, Ohya and Kawakami went by surnames. Yet from her own perspective I really should be using Sadayo. But it feels so weird. Dang this videogame for affixing certain names with higher priorities to certain characters. That really isn't much to do with anything, I just wanted to take a moment to yell a little about the #NameStruggle.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter's a lot about Sadayo's (!) own internal thoughts, and struggle to place where she is in the world and what she's feeling towards Akira. Much like before, this conversation could have gone any way based on Akira's choice, so that does leave her own emotional state quite volatile. In the end, I think she found a good place to reach though. Hopefully you guys think so too.


	5. I Wanted To Help You

“Is... fortune-telling the only reason you come to see me? I-it's not... is it?”

Of course it wasn't. It had stopped being about the fortunes long ago. Perhaps almost immediately. This bond, this connection, it wasn't built on use or utility. It wasn't about getting something. It was just friendship. Just caring for another.

He wasn't using Chihaya. That was _not_ who he was. The answer, it was simple enough.

I like having my fortune read.  
So I can be with you.  
**> I wanted to help you.**

So simple she never saw it coming.

Akira sighed at the blank stare from the woman sitting across the table between them, her pale violet eyes opened wide. She lacked understanding, and that frustrated him for as much as it made sense. He did get it. But he didn't like it. Not one bit.

Chihaya Mifune had been dealt a bad hand. Maybe it was ironic for Akira to be the one to say that, given his own situation, but he believed it. She'd also been forced out of her home, when all she'd wanted to do was help. She'd been cast into Tokyo alone. But the wrong people had found her. Akira had found amazing people that cared for him. Chihaya had been found by a con artist who quickly made use of her very real abilities.

Bedevilled and outcast from her home, taken in and used by a villain, how long had it been since she'd had someone truly trust and care about her? Long enough to forget such a thing was possible, Akira assumed. Honestly, one wrong step, one bad twist of fate, and he'd be much like Chihaya himself. He saw himself in her, in a way, the two sharing many similarities.

Maybe there was a streak of selfishness all the same. Seeing a reflection of what he could have been and wishing to save them. But if that selfishness aided another Akira wouldn't guilt himself for feeling it.

He wasn't wrong to be here. And he wasn't wrong to have said or done what he had. Chihaya was the one to break eye contact first.

“I...” she was confused, trying to figure this out and failing. Akira wanted to help her? Why? That was the problem. She was starting from looking for a reason. Akira just shook his head.

“I just wanted to. That's all.”

It still wasn't settling in. She was struggling and confused and, in full honesty, that just infuriated Akira. Seeing someone, especially someone he actually cared about, failing to understand that another person would care for them was...

He bit down on those frustrations and made his point.

“Why do you help people who come to you for fortunes?”

Admittedly, they did pay her. The argument could be made she was providing a service. But Akira knew it wasn't that. Chihaya had specifically been pushing herself to learn how to help people beyond just giving a reading. She didn't have to do that but she chose to.

And the reason she did was...

“...oh...” as it finally started to sink in, Akira blinked in surprise to see a tear run down from one of Chihaya's eyes. She felt it too, and quickly wiped at her face, a warm flush of embarrassment coursing through her. “I... I...” she was having trouble keeping in control. Definitely couldn't look Akira in the face right now. She understood now, it made sense, but the truth was still... it was so much. “For so long I was-”

“You're just Chihaya.” Akira cut through Chihaya's retreat to the selves she had been before, monster and maiden. The last time he'd said it to her, she'd smiled at him with obvious delight. This time it all but broke her. She kept a hand over her face.

How had she missed this? At first she'd thought it was only the readings. It was a service, Akira was clearly making use of her abilities, and she genuinely wanted to be of use to him. They had a deal and it was good. Then as he'd continued to motivate her, to reassure her, to support her and insist she wasn't any single label people applied to her, she began to look for what was more. So she offered more to keep him coming back as reward. And _still_ he'd kept supporting her.

It was this conversation where she'd intended to figure out the truth. If he truly was trying to appeal himself to her... well, he'd all but succeeded. But she didn't _know_ that that was what it was. The cards refused to reveal such answers to her. All the readings around Akira were muddled and confusing. Like there was something behind him warping fate itself.

However it may be, she'd made up her mind to ask at last. To make sure she knew just what he wanted from her so she could give it to him. He deserved it.

But only now, after so long, did she truly get it. He wasn't coming back to her for gain. He didn't expect rewards for what he did. He just wanted to help. He'd seen her, and become involved for benefit, but as soon as he'd learned she was in need he'd focused in on that alone. Nothing else really mattered. She was simply someone he truly wanted to help.

It hurt in the most beautiful way.

“Hey, Chih-”

“I-” she said it just to stop Akira from talking, unsure that she was able to handle hearing the care in his voice. But now she'd committed to saying something. She had no idea what. “I've been rude to you. Thought you had some sort've motive in coming back all this time. I'm sorry, I really am.”

“It's not your fault,” gentle reassurances, he kept doing it. Had no idea how it had driven her mad. Searching for something about her that was good enough to deserve it. Convinced as she was that deserving played any part in this. That Akira was the type of person to weigh such things.

He wasn't. He just did. He was action and he was salvation. The few glimpses of him she'd seen in the cards had told her that already.

So what was she even meant to do about this now? About these feelings of wanting to be worthy when being worthy had nothing to do with it? Of wanting to be everything Akira needed her to be when all he needed was for her to be herself? Had she truly grown so dependant on him? Oh yes, of course she had. He'd been the ray of light that had shone into her life and led her out of the darkness. And he neither wanted nor expected anything in return.

It was maddening! Absolutely infuriating! She couldn't do anything when she wanted to do everything – this was far worse than how in the past she had to urge people to accept the poor fortunes she read, unaware that with the right determination all fates could be overcome. Akira Kurusu deserved the world in return for saving her own and yet, all she could do was...

“Is it fine if I come again?”

He asked it gently and it broke her completely. He cared. That was all there was to it. He just cared and that was it. This, how had she lived her life without that? How had she been so alone, so miserable, and kept going? Now that she couldn't imagine not knowing that, whenever he felt of the mood, Akira Kurusu would appear before her? He'd saved her.

He'd saved her and all he wanted was for nothing to change.

...well then, if that was truly his wish...

It took a moment, focusing, calming, cleaning up her thoughts and allowing her voice to speak with only the slightest waver. But eventually Chihaya did again look Akira in the eyes and then she nodded. Nodded and smiled.

“Of course,” her answer immediately relaxed the boy before her, tension almost visibly bleeding out of him. Had he been that worried she was going to cast him aside now that he had saved her? What kind of life brought one to think such things? “You know I'll always be happy to see you again, Kurusu-san. After all, we'll forever be joined in our quest to oppose fate!”

He nodded and smiled to that one. Was happy to hear her words. And so when each went their separate ways, they knew things would continue on. And that one would always be able to find the other. It was more than she could ever have dreamed of.

Yet even still, on her way home, Chihaya felt the weight of her cards in her hands. With these she could see the truth. She merely had to look. Now and again she'd performed cursory inspections, looked for specific answers.

But this time she'd ask far bigger questions. Because now that she'd truly acknowledged just how incredible Akira Kurusu was, she really did need to know.

It was about time to find out who he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a real pain we don't have the official ages for all the Confidants, forcing us to assume based on context. Nonetheless, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I'm convinced Chihaya's the youngest of the adults. Young 20s even. And until that's proven wrong I'm sticking to it. Maybe even after that.
> 
> I think my favourite part of this chapter is the thought that Akira sees himself in Chihaya. Someone cast out, someone ostracized and alone. But while he was saved, Chihaya was preyed upon. In that manner he really did feel like he should be there to help her because there were people there for him. It's unfair that Chihaya has no-one.
> 
> A lot of the interactions Akira has with people can be boiled down to him being the only one there for them. Him supporting them emotionally (and also clearing up problems with the PThieves but shhh) and helping them gain confidence in themselves. The trouble with that is that writing an introspection from those characters at that point, where they realise how much Akira meant to them, runs the risk of being samey. It's the challenge of separating themes from repetition. There's a theme of Akira helping those who are alone and in need. I don't want to write repetition in the way they parse it. In the end though, I think that's up to the reader to decide. I hope these journeys into the perception of Akira Kurusu and the realisation of genuine care is one enjoyable. That's my big goal.
> 
> Just making that good good content.


	6. Is That What You Really Want?

“...So this is goodbye.”

Hifumi's eyes were downcast, visible to Akira but avoiding looking him in the face. She'd said it so quietly, her entire body language suppressed. This wasn't a case of just having lost a match – in truth she'd seemed almost revitalised a moment ago. No, this conclusion was one that had been haunting her.

He didn't like it.

I want to become stronger.  
I want to stay by your side.  
**> Is that what you really want?**

She flinched. Visibly, as if the question had torn through every attempt she'd been making to end this in the least painful manner possible. Quick and clean. She'd made the decision to set Akira free of her. Even if it hurt. At least it would be over for his sake.

That option was no longer available. If you'd asked Akira, he'd have said it never had been from the beginning.

No-one was hurting themselves for his sake. Not now. Not ever. He made sure to keep his eyes, storm-grey, fixed on Hifumi's green own. And waited for her answers.

“That's not...” she was struggling with it, attempting to formulate some way to continue towards her goal. She may have just been beaten by a professional, but her own student wasn't about to checkmate her. She hadn't fallen that far.

She thought.

“I told you, following me has only brought you misery. Surely you understand that, do you not?”

Akira was still staring at her. Was he... mad? She'd never seen him mad before. No wait, once she had. It had been after he'd walked in on her and her mother speaking in the church. Somewhere during her explanation of her situation to him, about her father's illness and her mother's insistence on the way she lived her life, at some point in that conversation she'd seen it. He'd been quick to guard the expression, but he had let it through just for a moment.

Enough time to see the way his brow furrowed, his lips parted slightly, and his teeth clenched. It wasn't the same now, the way he was staring her down, but it reminded her slightly of it all the same. Disappointment? Oh, maybe that was it. Of course he'd be disappointed.

She'd lost, after all.

“I'm sorry,” shaking her head, refusing to meet his gaze, she tried to force her way through this. “I've let you down. I'm no longer a suitable teacher. I hope you are able to find another in time, and do not lose the love of shogi you cultivated in our time together because of my misconduct. Do forgive me.”

“No.”

Like a lance. Those were the pieces he was always best with, the ability to charge forward no matter what. Akira's earliest displays of talent had been based around those pieces, long before he'd begun to imitate her he'd used them in ways that had honestly been quite fascinating. She'd always enjoyed watching him play. These days, even looking at the shogi board and seeing a lance, providing she was not in the midst of a game herself, reminded her of him.

This lance drove through her heart. Akira's single word, his rejection of her apology, marred her deeply. He'd always been so kind, so gentle. So she'd finally pushed him to the breaking point. Let him down so thoroughly he couldn't forgive her.

It made sense. She'd accept it. He was right. She prepared her heart to take on this wound.

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

And all her composure fell apart like a mask shattered by a single, well-timed blow.

“I... I... I...” she stammered, trying to figure out what on earth Akira could mean. How could he say she had nothing to apologise for? She had everything to apologise for. “I let you down-”

“No you didn't.”

Stop? Stop this, he couldn't just wipe away- “I'm no longer qualified to-”

“That doesn't matter.”

Yes it does? It was everything. Hifumi shook her head. Akira couldn't just handwave this all away. “Shogi is-”

“It's not about shogi.”

Finally she was struck dumb, eyes wide, mouth just slightly open. Not about shogi? Of course it was about shogi! That was why Akira had come to her to begin with. That was why he'd stuck beside her. It had always been about shogi. If it wasn't about shogi then... what was it?

“Do you really want me to go?”

That wasn't- it's not about her, damn it! It's about what's right! About how she'd fallen and could no longer be a suitable teacher. Why didn't he get that? What was keeping him here, looking at her with that expression of frustration. She should be the one frustrated here! He just didn't get it!

Akira Kurusu rarely let his annoyance loose. It all honesty, a part of him was complaining loudly at this series of events, insisting that scolding Hifumi was a terrible thing to do. Yet that part could do nothing against the majority, all but livid at Hifumi's insistence that she'd lost her value to him. Chihaya, unused to genuine friendship, had been bad enough. This though...

Hifumi wasn't even looking at him. She'd retreated. Sometimes that was the right thing to do. But this time, well, this time...

“It's not about shogi,” he said it again, making sure she heard him. “It's not about value. It's not about trouble. There's no measurement constantly checking that there's still a good reason for me to be here. None of that is real.”

None of it was real? Nonsense. She shook her head. “You came to me for shogi.”

“And I stayed because of you.”

Her heart-rate skyrocketed. What... what sort of line even was that? Was she blushing? She best not be blushing! Hifumi shook her head, way too fast, and had to stop and hold a hand to her forehead to steady herself. With half her vision blocked she could only see the bottom of Akira's face, his mouth held in a steady line. Sometimes he'd smiled and laughed. Sometimes he'd been focused. Rarely was he upset.

What was happening here?

“Hifumi,” Akira said her name without any honorific and her heart couldn't take much more of this. What was he doing? “I'm your friend.”

“But if all I bring you is trouble-”

“Then I'll deal with it. That's not how friendship is measured. You know that, right?”

Did she? Being made into an idol had distanced herself from the majority of her peers. Genuine friendship had disappeared from her life as she was raised up to stand alone by her mother. Did she even still have that understanding?

Wait, friend?

“Akira-kun?” Lowering her hand from her head changed Hifumi's perspective entirely. The thin line of Akira's mouth had been resolute disappointment, she was sure. Instead his eyes changed his expression entirely. He just looked sad. Shook his head. Spoke more plainly than he ever had before.

“I don't want to stop being your friend.”

“E-even after everything has only caused you pain?”

“Nothing you've done has hurt me.”

Nothing? She'd been a liar all along, a phony princess. It didn't matter if her mother was hiding it from her, she had seen the mistakes made by those who should know far better. She'd ignored them to ignore the truth. She'd been as much in the wrong, she was sure of it. Following someone like that, being friends with someone like that, that couldn't be a good decision, could it? She still wasn't sure.

Did he... really just want to ignore everything that had happened? Could she really accept that? Keep on letting him come to her and spending time with her like she hadn't had her name dragged through the mud? Was he really so eager to just... change nothing at all?

Akira gave a smirk, a trademark of his that always preceded his teasing. It drew an exasperated sigh from Hifumi almost unwittingly.

“Didn't we just get done talking about how a Queen has to accept defeat with dignity?”

Excuse her? “What defeat?”

Akira just shook his head. “If you really want to say goodbye, you're going to have to say you don't want to be friends anymore right now. Can you do that?”

She... couldn't. Akira smiled knowing that.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“You're so stubborn.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Ugh, fine! Fine, he won. Akira Kurusu scores his first victory over Hifumi Togo. If he truly wasn't about to leave her side, even after all her failings, then she'd accept that. What else could she do?

She certainly couldn't chase away the one who'd helped her find her way. Honestly, it was laughable to think she was going to to begin with. She'd always known he was far too stubborn.

Friends, huh?

“In that case,” she was able to look him in the face again. He was smiling. “Let's both continue to improve ourselves. As friends, and rivals. Do you accept?”

Akira nodded, contentment settling within him at this conclusion. Good. He hadn't lost anyone. He was still holding on. This was good.

“Here's to us.”

“And to our future together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hifumi, disgraced by the lies she had been built up under and embarrassed by her defeat, attempted to cut Akira off. It was the logic that her name was tainted now, and any association with her would taint those associates as well. The more Akira argued that didn't matter, the more Hifumi tried to justify her protection of him by disparaging herself and her own worth to him, which only further reinforced his intent to not go anywhere. They're both rather stubborn when they want to be. But it's for the best Akira won out.
> 
> As I write I discover things about characters, and what I discovered about Akira between the last chapter and this one is that he's very resistant to people leaving his life. Is that a result of the fact his life was completely uprooted and overturned when he was forced to Tokyo, and the people who'd accepted him became vital lifelines for his own self-worth? Oh absolutely.
> 
> Hifumi is very good and I like her a lot, which much like Makoto's chapter made this one a little trickier. Admittedly unlike Makoto, Tae, Ohya and Haru, Hifumi doesn't really lead you in to a discussion on romance. Which did let me sidestep that whole discussion and focus instead on friendship, self-worth, and the lack of importance of worth between friends. That said, the remaining three chapters of Confidantial Confessions aren't huge worries for me. I have a strong groundwork for each of those. One of them will be hard to write, but not for lack of a plan. Just, well, you'll know.


	7. I'm Not Her

“Ohhh, I know. Did you take me seriously when I told the chief we were a couple? Geez, you kids today are so naive!”

In the voice of Ichiko Ohya, reporter, confidant, and troublemaker in that order, was sing-song teasing, delight evident at having the chance to poke fun at Akira. He'd smirk and play along, tease her back, were it not for something else. Something in the way she was looking at him but not _at_ him. Through him, more like. Like her mind had just drifted a million miles away.

Well, not that far. Just far enough to reach someone she couldn't forget.

“That couple act...”

Yeah, that really was what this was, huh?

I took it seriously.  
I didn't take it seriously.  
**> I'm not her.**

Her first reaction was her eyes widening rapidly, leaning back into her seat, staring in complete shock at Akira. A moment of silence passed.

Then deep, booming laughs filled the bar instead and the door behind it opened, Lala Escargot almost toppling back into the room.

“Wh- No!”

Ohya's protests were met with no mercy. Lala was clutching onto the bar, unable to stop her rampant laughter, barely remaining on her feet. Akira simply kept a small smile like he hadn't just destroyed the mood, her pride, and Lala-chan's ability to locomote. What was even with this?

“It's not-”

“Ichiko-chaaaan,” struggling to speak through the intense laughing session, Lala leaned against the bar for support. She'd known little Akira-chan had been a bright one all along, but this was next level, “you've been read just like your newspapers. How did it come to this?”

No, no no no no, not even happening! To start with: “What were you even doing listening in on that? How'd you hear everything?”

“Just keeping an eye and ear out for Akira-chan,” Lala had recovered enough to stand properly now, looking over the seated pair with a wide grin. “I had to make sure you weren't pushing the poor boy into something untoward.”

Ohya huffed loudly and looked aside. “He can take care of himself.”

“Evidently!”

No no, she still wasn't going to take this lying down. Whipping her head around, she stared Akira dead on. He didn't bat an eyelid or shift his smile in the slightest. What sort of sneak... “Explain yourself,” she pointed dangerously, eyes narrowed, “and don't even start trying to make excuses.” She didn't care what he or Lala had to say. They weren't just making wild claims without backup. It didn't matter if she were the only one here with (allegedly) journalistic integrity, she'd hold them to those standards too. Make some sense, dammit!

Akira shrugged and spoke plainly. The very last thing she'd been ready for.

“You basically said it yourself – you were happiest when reporting with Kayo-san. I don't think I'm being rude to say you're unhappier now than you were back then.” Akira's use of Kayo's name was a weird thing. It was all Ohya used so of course it was the one that stuck with him, but even still... this kid got way too casual with people. Lala was just standing behind the bar nodding like Akira was dispensing wisdom. Ohya set her face in a frown. He hadn't said anything special yet!

“But you got to have that again this year, kind of. Using me to get more freedom, you could go back to the old ways. I was an excuse and method for you to live a happier life, wasn't I?”

He... was, and the fact he acknowledged it so easily really bugged her. It wasn't like she'd deny it, or try to argue he was being arrogant or anything for saying it, but the fact he _was_ aware of it, and so casual about it, was really freaking weird. Was this a common thing for him? Becoming a method by which people could loosen their chains and attain a little more happiness?

Huh, well, yeah, actually, of course it was. But that was a whole can of worms for another day. One where Lala-chan wasn't watching over the two either. Still...

“You put me on the same level as her,” Akira said it with ease and blew her mind. Had... had she? “Because of me you could go back to the same life you had with her. So I reminded you of being around her. You... well that's just what it was.”

“You latched onto the poor boy,” Lala ignored Akira's attempt to salvage any of Ohya's pride and completed the thought anyway, “started treating being around him as the same as being around Kayo-chan. Ichiko-chan... you understand, right?”

In lieu of a drink so powerful she'd immediately black out and forget the past five minutes, Ichiko Ohya would settle for the earth beneath her to immediately open up and consign her to a molten grave. Honestly, it would be an improvement over this situation in every possible way. The core of the earth couldn't be burning as hot as her face after all.

Akira Kurusu, meanwhile, was really struggling not to make some comment along the line of being flattered. Firstly because Ohya looked like she wanted to die right now and being a smartass would only make that worse, and secondly, the nature of Confidants was really starting to worry him.

The thing is, it wasn't just friendship. It wasn't just equality. There was a distinct something else in it, that quantified the bond into a form that the Velvet Room could extract power from. Chihaya had said it before, that Akira might very well have incredible charisma. But... not really? He wouldn't have come from a life where he'd isolated himself as much if he did, right? If he really were the type to draw people towards him, he shouldn't have been able to keep people away as well as he had.

So what if it were all wrapped up in the nature of the Trickster? What if he had more than just the power of the Wild Card making him suitable? If that had been foisted on him, it would make sense, right?

The way people just spilled their secrets to him, relied upon him, trusted in him so absolutely. What if it wasn't him? Wouldn't that make more sense?

As time went on, the year passed by and events got more and more reckless, Akira Kurusu had begun to doubt his own validity. It would take a little while longer, a bullet in a god, and the embracing of self-determination by ascending his own Persona, for Akira to begin to escape those fears that he was more construct than man.

Sure he'd shifted Ohya's almost-proposition of him to be about her transplanting feelings she couldn't deliver to her former partner anymore, but even still she shouldn't have had those thoughts to begin with, he was sure. No, something else had caused feelings that strong, something beyond him. He was almost positive of it now.

None of this was right.

Ichiko Ohya, still awaiting a just god to strike her down on the spot, completely missed Akira's contemplations. Lala-chan was still smirking at her. This was hell. This was her own personal hell.

Honestly though she probably deserved it.

“Okay.” Admitting it sucked. She made sure not to look at either of them. Or the glass, before her, somehow reflecting her face just enough to be judgeable. “So maybe I've been dealing with the last few years badly.”

The clink of ice and pouring sound of liquid was Lala making the glass far more palatable. Ohya reached forward and wrapped her fingers around it, feeling the chill transpose into her skin. “You're still both very rude though.”

“ _I_ ,” Lala didn't take that for a second, “am the picture of good manners.”

“You're only here right now because you were eavesdropping on us!”

“Details.”

“Sorry,” each jolted when Akira finally spoke again, his smile one far more rueful now. “I didn't really hold back there.”

“Well,” Ohya sipped at her drink, staring at him over the rim of her glass, “I guess I'll forgive you. Just don't do it again.” He nodded and grinned at her. Honestly. This kid. She'd never had even an inkling of the trouble he'd be when first she'd approached him.

It always had been Kayo who had the good senses for who was more trouble than they were worth. Right up until... well, Ohya just finished her drink and had Lala pour another. That was enough of that.

“I think I'm just gonna stay here for a while, get on home, Akira-kun.”

“Right,” he nodded, “I'll come back another time.”

“Make sure you do!”

“Goodnight Akira-chan, thanks for stopping by. And giving me such a good laugh, it's been too long. Let me know your schedule for shifts!”

Akira smiled at both and took his leave, allowing Ohya to sink into her drink while Lala needled her constantly about the degree to which Akira had just crushed her that night.

Really, with friends like these, who needs enemies? She just sighed and drank again.

She really missed Kayo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, all cards on the table, this chapter was _very_ self-indulgent for me. A) the Ichiko/Kayo ship is very good and I'm gonna push it every chance I get, B) characters with power doubting their validity as humans because of those powers is my SHIT, I love that. I didn't get to explore that with a post-game Akira, but you best believe I'll sow the seeds of it here anyway. It's good. It's real good. I tell you that.
> 
> The order of these chapters is the likely order I settled on for "this" Akira's rank 9 events. So Ohya's chronologically number seven in the potential confessions, two remaining after. You can see Akira's attitude start to change from first to last, I feel. It'll be interesting to see where it goes next. For you guys.
> 
> I know exactly what's next. Look forward to it.


	8. Because We're Family

“Am I, um... the only one you treat like this...?”

A few weeks ago, Sojiro had taken Akira and Futaba out to the church in Kanda. It had been to visit the grave of Wakaba Isshiki, the ghost of whom, manifested within Futaba’s consciousness as her Palace began to crumble, swept her eyes over the Phantom Thieves behind Futaba and asked them to watch over her daughter.

He’d never asked if anyone else had seen the movement, often wondered if he’d imagined it – it would have made far more sense for the cognition to focus on Futaba alone. But Akira swore he saw the request in its eyes.

It was a request he rose to immediately.

Futaba, once recovered from facing the truth and obtaining her Persona, latched on to Akira. He became a place of safety for her, someone who allowed her to push her limits as long as he was around to watch over her. Her Key Item. It was stupid how much hearing himself described as that had warmed his heart.

From that summer until now, Futaba’s change had been all but miraculous. Given what she’d come from, how much she’d suffered – and oh just thinking about what she’d been through made Akira grit his teeth, feel even more fury towards those responsible – Futaba had bounced back to an incredible degree. It wasn’t like she’d suddenly become a socialite, or that confident around strangers, but as a person she was happy and she was happy around the others.

That alone was incredible. He was so proud of her.

Sojiro, at that church, had called Akira family. He’d had flashes of the sense – thinking of how Sojiro had warmed to him, taught him, looked out for him like Akira was his own son. The core difference between it and the indifference his own family had shown him once sent out to Tokyo was… powerful. Thinking on it too hard caused his heart to ache. So he didn’t.

Which was exactly why, when Sojiro had said it plainly, Akira had nearly broke. He’d kept his façade, mask on as best he could, but his very being had all but jumped for joy. _I have a home. A family._ Those thoughts, how could they feel so good and hurt so much at the same time?

He’d spent the last months watching over Futaba, as she began the path to recovery. He’d guarded. He’d guided. He cared for. He was cared for. And he knew why it was.

“Why, Akira...?”

There could only be one answer in the entire world.

Because we're teammates.  
Because I love you.  
**> Because we're family.**

That silence followed his words wasn’t a surprise. Each of the two had a sarcastic outer shell, insulating themselves against sincerity. Part of the reason they’d gotten along so well to begin with – able to bounce hours of sardonic nothings off of each other and enjoy the exchange simply for what it was. But even still, despite that nature, Futaba had grown to trust Akira. Had let her guard down, now and again, when asking for his help. When asking him to walk with her on the road to recovery, she’d spoken with quiet honesty. Bared her heart. He couldn’t thank her enough for giving him that trust. And he’d promised, to himself, he’d see it rewarded. He’d help her. No matter what.

Because that was what family did.

Futaba was still silent, perched there on his bed in that pose she always did. Out of curiosity – making sure that firstly Morgana wasn’t around and secondly he wasn’t in range of any of the devices Futaba could watch him from – Akira had tried to emulate the pose. It hadn’t been very comfortable at all. Still, if she was happy with it. Akira rose up from the bed, the futon creaking from the motion. That was enough to get Futaba’s attention.

She shot to her feet.

“I –I –I –I –I…”

This wasn’t any kind of attack, which relieved Akira who’d begun wondering if maybe he’d pushed too hard on that one. Futaba was just dealing with a whole rush of things all at once. Stimulation overload.

“F –f –f –family!?” When she squeaked out the word, staring up at Akira, he just nodded affirmation. Yeah. That was exactly what this was.

Her eyes all but glassed over.

“...”

“........”

“............”

Akira waved a hand in front of her face.

“...”

“........”

“............”

“Hello? Futaba?”

Futaba.exe has stopped responding.

“...”

“........”

“............”

Well alright then. She was definitely working through processing this. Compared to Akira, who’d been lowkey entertaining familial feelings right up until Sojiro had confirmed them, it seemed Futaba hadn’t noticed at all. Akira couldn’t tell whether surprising her like this was what he’d wanted. Then again, it couldn’t really be her fault for not seeing it this way. He didn’t know her perceptions.

So he just waited as her brain ran at maximum to work this out.

Inside the head of Futaba Sakura, thoughts piled up at a million miles a minute. Eating dinner together with Sojiro and Akira. Following Akira around. Teasing him about things. Being teased back. Watching shows. Playing games. Wishing him well when he left for school. Bidding him welcome when he came back. Sharing her secrets. Trusting in him. Being trusted in. Mutuality.

Her mother had died and she’d all but died too. Secluded herself, cut her off from everything and everyone. Sure she understood, conceptually, that Sojiro was acting as her father, but the feelings didn’t flow right. Nothing moved right in her head. She was just spiralling, falling, the bottom coming closer and closer. When she hit the ground it would all be over. She’d known that even as she did nothing to stop her descent.

Then Akira and the others had reached out, grabbed hold of her, and stopped her fall. Began hauling her back out of the pit she’d cast herself into. They’d saved her.

And the others all cared, and she enjoyed being around them and talking to them too, but this had always been different. They’d been fun. Akira had been _safe_. And it hadn’t been until now she’d finally mustered up the courage to question why.

What had she been afraid of? That he’d have said something to disparage how important he had been? To disregard how much he meant to her? To find out he really didn’t think of her as anyone special? Countless possibilities had run through her mind, the social anxiety process in her brain one she could neither kill nor easily wrest resources away from.

But the answer, the answer was overwhelming, she still couldn’t quite process it.

Because it was _right_.

She’d lost her mother and the concept of family had disappeared from her. Sojiro had cared, but it wasn’t the same. She was just sitting there, in her room, fading away. With no-one left.

But that wasn’t what this was anymore. Sojiro was her father. And Akira was her… was her… was... her… bro-

“Ah!”

When Futaba jumped she _jumped_ , her head reaching Akira’s height for a brief moment before she came thudding back down onto the floorboards. Akira’s stare of surprise only lasted a moment before one of those stupid smirks where he was right about to deliver a killer line overtook his face. Futaba cut him off with one hand pointed right at him.

“You!”

Akira still smiled but this one was more gentle. It didn’t calm her heart any. “Me?”

“You!” Futaba jerked her arm to repeat the point, “You you you you you!” She started pacing, quickly morphing the movement to just spinning in a circle. Akira patiently waited it out as Futaba dizzied herself and had to crouch back down, wrapping her hands around her legs once more.

When she looked up, he’d crouched down to mirror the pose, just before her. It really wasn’t a comfortable thing, was it?

“I…” Futaba looked down again, sure her face was burning. She hadn’t been prepared for this. Not at all. “Thanks.”

Akira nodded. “It’s okay.”

Was it? Was it really? Was this all okay? Was everything that was still to come okay? She didn’t know. Who could? Well, whatever may be…

“I, uh… I promise!” She almost yelled the word, looking up at Akira again, “I’m gonna do my best! I’ll give everything I’ve got in supporting you guys! So don’t let me down, alright?” Akira just smiled back. More power in the connection between them.

And while a part of him still doubted his own contribution to those bonds, he shushed it for he knew something even more important than whether this was truly him or not.

He knew this was for Futaba. And whatever power was letting him be more for her, he’d accept it to help her.

Because that was part of what family did.

Stretching as she rose back up to her feet, Futaba raised her hands up into the air. Akira did the same, and a moment later a grand double high-five was exchanged between them. Like the best of siblings.

What they’d always longed for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking about the choice for this Confidant, it occurs to me in the original Japanese that the "because we're teammates" option is almost guaranteed to be "nakama". As a concept, nakama definitely is a far stronger thing than teammates, which would make the choice far more valuable there. Not here though. Here it just wasn't enough.
> 
> Before I started this fic I'd explained the concept to friends using two examples. One, wanting to say "You have us" to Ann. Two, wanting to say "Because we're family" to Futaba. So to say I've been longing to write this chapter would not be an understatement. Honestly, I got emotional writing it. Hopefully those emotions reached you while reading it.
> 
> One chapter remains now. Those of you who've seen the rank nine confidant of Haru Okumura will understand when I say this one will not be easy. I've got a concept. I've got a plan. I've already written out the choice. But even still, this one's going to be rough.
> 
> Please look forward to it.


	9. I...

“Oh, that reminds me! Takakura-san said something... a little strange, didn't he? Th-Th-That I... like you... Goodness, why would he say that...?”

A record scratched. A car ran into another, and another into it, and the scene became a pileup. Gears misaligned and ground to a halt. The starting pistol jammed.

And Akira Kurusu felt the blood drain from his face.

He'd been... caught up in his thoughts. Everything of late – from faking his death, to Shido's Palace, to Akechi, it had weighed upon him. And while he'd agreed to be there for Haru, provide her the support she'd come to rely on him for – always supporting, never backing down from giving of himself to others – in truth Akira had only been half aware for the discussion.

So he'd missed it. Not invested the proper amount of thought when Takakura had said it. Been too focused on how things were better for Haru now. That was good. That was where his thoughts had stopped.

But now she was looking down, a slight blush on her face at having asked this question, and Akira's heart was hammering. Because this was different. This was different to everything else.

“Why do you think...?”

This wasn't Makoto unsubtly leaving the option to ask her out in Akira's hands. This wasn't Takemi, or Ohya, fishing for what Akira's true motivations towards them might be. This was something more. She wanted this. She wanted the right answer.

He hadn't had time to prepare himself. To find some proper way to answer her. His head was hazy still. He'd have moments where he lost focus Takemi had told him after her initial checkup – a joke about her making housevisits almost but not quite coming out from the pain-riddled Akira at the time.

He had to say something. He couldn't let this hang but... what?

He saw us as good friends.  
I like you too, Haru.  
**> I...**

Haru looked up at him and her face immediately fell.

“I see.”

She was on her feet before Akira could manage a word, back to him. “A-Anyway, um... I should go study...”

Wait, no, this couldn't just end like this. Akira rose up to his feet, shaking his head. She of course didn't see it. “Haru, wait-”

“I have entrance exams coming up...-”

“It's not-”

“-so I don't really have time-”

“Hey, stop-”

“-to be sitting around here...”

_“Listen to me, dammit!”_

She jumped.

In truth, Haru Okumura had only known Akira Kurusu for a short time. Three months. It really wasn't much of anything. But she'd paid close attention all the same. Seen him joke around with the others and envied it, right up until he'd gotten used to her enough to do the same. Then had to deal with how his teasing would always set her heart aflutter. A lesson in getting what one wished for.

She'd watched him lead in the Metaverse as Joker, always with that grin, always moving so sleek and smoothly, leaving the impression of a prowling feline seeking its prey. She'd watched him focus on their enemies, stare them down with dark intent.

She'd seen him the day after the interrogation, and struggled not to cry. Because he was doing his very best to fake that he was fine and his very best was absolutely abysmal. No-one mentioned it. But they could all tell. She'd nearly screamed the moment she was outside Leblanc. Makoto had kept a hand on her shoulder, the look on her face so furious it stunned Haru. The others were similar. Yet all they could do was swallow this bitter pill. That was all they could do.

Haru Okumura had watched as Akira Kurusu tore through the Palace of Masayoshi Shido, led the Phantom Thieves with absolute determination, and then run right into the finale of Goro Akechi. A scene which still haunted her, and which she knew without question was on his mind as well. After everything that had piled up upon him, he had to be stretched to breaking point.

But _this_ was the first time she'd ever heard him yell.

She turned and stared, looked right into his eyes, and took a step back. He was close. She wasn't prepared for him to be so close.

Akira, staring her head-on, sighed and his shoulders shook with it. He looked down. Averted his eyes. And spoke quietly. “It's not like... I don't like you. I do. That's not what this is.”

She blinked. Pardon? He did like her? But he didn't seem happy about saying it? She didn't understand. Shook her head. He didn't see that either. “Akira-kun?”

He looked... unsteady. Was he swaying? Was his face pallid? Wait, was he even okay to be standing right now? Worry immediately surged within her chest. “Akira-kun! Please sit down!”

He did. Followed her order and immediately collapsed back into the lounge, almost falling in on himself. It was a sight that burned itself into her mind. She'd see that long after this day was over. It wasn't a happy picture.

She sat too. Looked at him. And waited.

Akira raised a hand to his head. “I'm so tired.”

That... was nothing like what she'd expected to hear. He sounded it. He sounded exhausted. And small. Like she'd never seen of him before. Was it right to feel some measure of strange happiness that he was willing to appear so before her? Admit his troubles? Or was any feeling but raw concern a sin? Her heart was in shambles after the wild high she'd plunged from. Now what? What could she even say? Akira continued.

“I wasn't wrong. To do what I did. To help the people I did. To be there for them. To do everything I did. I wasn't wrong.” Was that for her sake, or his, that he was repeating himself? He kept the hand pressed over his face. “But it took a lot. And I think I'm reaching the end.” She watched as he dragged his hand down his face, just enough, to let his eyes meet hers. They were bloodshot. How had she not seen that before? “I'm so tired, Haru.”

“Akira-kun-”

She couldn't get much further than that, Akira's other hand raising up with palm spread, a request for her to stop. She did. He shook his head and fixed his eyes shut. Breathed out. Was even his breathing belaboured? How poorly had he healed? How had anyone missed this? How had everyone?

“You all,” Akira managed it after a moment, seemingly forcing the words out, “You all matter so much to me. I'd... do anything for any of you. Without even thinking about it. I can't express how much you mean to me. Even you, Haru. You're incredible. You trusted us, even when you had no reason to. You chose to stay with us even after we failed you. You helped us get this far. I can't... thank you enough.”

That wasn't... “This isn't about me, Akira-kun!” It had been, at first, but now something far more pressing was on her mind. Her leader, their Joker, was sick. She was sure of it now. These were the words of someone on the edge of their mind, not someone in full control – especially someone as guarded as Akira. This wasn't right.

“I'm sorry,” he pushed his other hand up against the first, both now over his face, “I wish I could do something. But I'm so tired. I can't split myself any more. I can't give any more to anyone. I'm so-” he gritted his teeth, a spike of fury at his shortcomings racing through him. Because he had nothing left to give. “so tired.”

A soft hand settled over his own. A gentle tug freed his face to the air. A light brush from a handkerchief passed under his eyes.

And when he opened them, Haru Okumura was staring directly at him, her hands resting over his own.

“I'm sorry,” she shook her head, overriding Akira's attempt at an apology with her own. “I couldn't see. I was so blinded by my own concerns that I missed what you have been struggling with. I understand. It's... okay.”

Akira blinked. “No,” he shook his head, pushing himself to sit up properly instead of being half-embedded into the lounge, “it's not.” There was a trace of edge in his voice, displeasure at this situation all the same. He didn't break their stare. “Haru, you have every right to be focused on what you've been going through. You are _not_ wrong for this.”

“Considering my own troubles does not give me the right to ignore those of my friends!” Haru fought back, refusing to take Akira's dismissal of his own problems. “You have pushed yourself to a breaking point for the sake of all of us, Akira-kun! How could we be considered good friends if we show no care for you in that state – a state you would destroy yourself to rid another of!”

Noir was one of the heaviest-hitters in the Metaverse. Haru's callout landed cleanly. A One-Shot Kill. Because Akira would never, _ever_ , tolerate someone else doing what he was doing to himself. He didn't have a single thing he could say now, all of it hypocrisy.

How were you even meant to say this was just what he was meant to do as the Trickster? He was tasked to be this way? He couldn't, right?

Yeah... he couldn't.

He just looked down.

“When-” Haru's voice made him look up again. There was a strong tinge of red across her face once more. But she didn't look away. “When this is over, and you're no longer doing... this... to yourself, can we try again? And... after a little while, you can give me your true answer?”

That opportunity was more than he deserved.

In truth, he didn't know. He did feel an incredible amount for each of his fellows, more than enough that one could accuse it of being love. But there was a difference between that and whatever form led to romance. He knew that, but couldn't parse it. Not in the state he had twisted himself into over this past year.

The only way forward was to get past this, and then discover just what the truth really was. Akira nodded.

“When it's over, we can spend time together again. And I'll find the answer.”

“Thank you.”

It wasn't the answer she had been hoping for. The match of his affections to hers. But it was still a promise to rely upon. A chance to find the truth. For now... that was enough.

Akira had reached out to her. Held her hand and reassured her when she feared. Encouraged her to leave behind her chains and stand on her own two feet. Her feelings had blossomed in their time together, and she had truly begun to admire him. To wish to be beside him.

The answer to that wish was delayed beyond either's expectation.

When Shido confessed, Haru thought that it was over. Then the world broke around them. Akira, always Akira, rose up again, rallied them together, and led the Phantom Thieves to take the world itself back from a selfish god. And then, then she was sure it was over.

He never broke promises. That was something she was assured of, that the others had told her. But Akira Kurusu was not there when it was over. Did not appear before his friends as he should have. Instead he'd cast himself into the jaws of wolves so that he might reach their injured leader. And once the leader was felled, and Sae Niijima had dragged him back from their den, the wounded Akira was in no state to face such things.

Then he was gone once more, half the country away, and a year was set to pass.

What were you even meant to do about that? The answer he'd promised went ungiven. It wasn't fair. And it did hurt. Days ticked by, they all spoke to each other constantly, she and he had even spoken in private now and again.

But until he did return in full, and they were all together again, the answer remained unknown to either.

I do love you.  
I care about you.  
**> I...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's no surprise this chapter was by far the most difficult for me to do. I can only hope it measures up to your expectations. Writing this pushed my limits, which is important to exercise, but also exposes weaknesses. We will see what we see.
> 
> Confidantial Confessions, despite often focusing on the thoughts of the women involved, still followed Akira himself. And from the beginning to the end, the time of Persona 5 passed, and he changed because of it. Reassuring Ann was so simple. Teasing Takemi so easy. But at the end, when he's so worn down and someone he truly cares for asks him, quite plainly, what he feels for her, the answer could only be "I don't know". That's not a fun or fulfilling answer to give. Not one bit.
> 
> Because of that, there isn't quite a resolution in this chapter. There's a promise of something in the future, and I do have something I wish to write set a year from P5's end, but that's not a thing that could happen soon. In the end, Haru didn't get an answer the same way the others did. I regret that, but I don't think there was any other way. Not for what I was writing. Such is how it ends.
> 
> Confidantial Confessions is meant to be set in the same extended setting Spin the Wheel takes place in. It's the same Akira in both. The events of CC are canon to Spin the Wheel, despite Wheel being written first - which can make things awkward. A good amount of focus in Wheel was on Akira trying to guard his hurt from the others - Takemi's chapter especially showed he wanted them to know nothing of what he went through. Is it dramatic irony, or tonal inconsistency, that this chapter reveals they knew anyway? I really can't evaluate that anymore. I leave that in your hands.
> 
> Confidantial Confessions was well received, and I think you all for your presence, in kudos, in comments, and simply in reading, along the way. Next up is a oneshot I've been wanting to write for a while now - the simple concept of "using third-eye for shenanigans" being all I had written for the idea right up until I conceptualised the extremely good name I'll be using for it.
> 
> I can't promise when it will be done, simply soon, but please look forward to my next work: Opening Your Third Eye for Fun and Profit.


End file.
